


Perfect Places

by iheartmonkeys19



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, but nothing hardcore, it's set in venice, my art feels, prolly some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iheartmonkeys19/pseuds/iheartmonkeys19
Summary: Jaehyun came to Venice to stare at old paintings hanging in even older buildings, maybe drink a few glasses of red wine, catch long hours of sleep and watch the sunset or something like that... god knows how long he’s been trying to get Doyoung to stop calling him incessantly over work things.He didn’t think he’d find himself staring at a beautiful boy in the Galleria dell’Accademia.





	1. Vitruvian Man

Jaehyun stared.

Not at the painting but at the boy; the boy with pink hair. He’s been staring at that particular piece for fifteen minutes now and Jaehyun wondered what he sees in it. But at least Jaehyun didn’t look weird staring in the first place. It was an art gallery, after all, wasn’t that the purpose of these places? - To stare vacantly at beautiful things?

Besides the fact that the boy was exquisitely stunning like an Old Master’s; he was also standing in front of the last of Titian’s work, his ‘Pieta’, his pink hair so bright against the dark sombre depiction of the Virgin Mary holding a dying Jesus Christ in her arms. He wore all black and Jaehyun thinks that's insane considering the fact that it was summer in Italy. He was studying it so intently that Jaehyun felt a misplaced stab of jealousy of that stupid painting. If only he could have had the same undivided attention of that boy.

Snap out of it Jung Jaehyun. He mentally chided himself, brows furrowing in annoyance. When he turned back to look at the boy he almost jolted in his seat to find him staring back.

Jaehyun tries not to swear under his breath because in all the many places he’s been to (and in his line of work, he doesn’t even remember all the places he’s been too) he swears he’s never seen eyes like those. Those big expressive eyes that look like obsidian pools deeper than the pits of hell.

Yes Jaehyun was in hell.

Dante was right. Hell is cold because Jaehyun shivered, physically, he shook like there was a ghost walking through him or something, his teeth clatter, his bones rattle. But there’s something else that shifts within him when he meets eyes with that stranger. Its cliché and it makes him want to throw up in his own mouth but Jaehyun thinks he’s in love.

Or maybe he’s just really really attracted to the guy with the pink hair.

The moment is loaded; Jaehyun must’ve been flushed because he felt the heat spread up his neck and his ears. He hates the fact that he’s too transparent sometimes. Johnny often tells him he’s in the wrong profession.

The stranger looked away back to the painting with a small secretive smile, tugging his crooked beanie back into place and Jaehyun thinks that’s enough of an invitation.

He thinks.

But fuck it. He was a fool if he didn’t even at least try.

So he stood and walked over, awkwardly shoving his hands in the pockets of his khakis, shuffling towards the Pieta with weary steps.

"It’s a beautiful piece. Depressing. But beautiful nonetheless.” He spoke out loud next to the mystery guy and then he wanted to slap himself. He was never an intellectual, not when it came to art.

“Like most things in life then.” The man chuckled, responding to him in their native tongue and it warms Jaehyun up strangely.

“I’m Taeyong.” He held his hand out and Jaehyun grasped it, surprised by how thin and callous they were. Now that Jaehyun’s up close he can see him clearly and it takes a moment for his eyes to digest how really beautiful Taeyong is. He looks like he could've inspired both manhwa artists and Michelangelo at the same time.

“Jung Jaehyun. It’s nice to see a fellow Korean. It’s been awhile.” He sighed, it really has been awhile. Part of Jaehyun just wants to go home already.

“You work in Venice?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows.

“No... I’ve been working at Lyon for the past few months or so. So I’m a little... homesick.” That's really an understatement. He doesn't know why he's being so honest with a stranger but it's the way Taeyong asked. As if he wants a real response.

“Then why didn’t you just go back home?”

“Well... you see... I tend to overwork and get myself really immersed in my work so when it finally his turn to go back home... the next thing you know my boss sent me to Venice with a complaint lodged in HR saying that he didn’t want burned-out employees that disobeyed orders and worked overtime. So... here I am- on an enforced vacation of sorts.”

Jaehyun was kinda of sick of Europe, to be honest. The fresh air was nice and the architecture and art were lovely and he liked hearing the words roll off the tongues of the colleagues; how they spoke so rapidly, joining one word to the other like a song. A chanson really. It wasn't that hard to pick up the language. He had managed fine, picking up a more natural sounding accent when he spoke French.

But he had missed Korea, he missed hearing his mother's voice excitedly chirping about the littlest things and the food she brought him in large Tupperware when he was too swamped with work to cook for himself. He didn't want to admit it but he kind of missed his co-workers too, the ever so loud Seo Youngho, his boss, who was loud and boisterous and generous but also kind of a pain in the ass. He even missed Doyoung, his beady-eyed desk mate who always had files stacked on his table and some sharp-witted reply to his everyday moaning. He missed his little apartment that overlooked a busy street in Seoul. He missed his bed. He missed the taste of soju. He missed the late night jogging by the Han River he also missed. Heck, he even missed the fat cat that was usually perched on his balcony every other morning, meowing forlornly and rather gratingly loud until Jaehyun slid the glass windows open and let him in.

“You seem committed to your job.” Taeyong smiled and Jaehyun almost doesn't respond because he's too distracted by that smile.

“Yes. I suppose I am.” He's never really thought about it but now that he has time to ruminate about the things he has sacrificed for his job... his family, his time, his health, his safety... his non-existent love life... then yes he probably is too committed to his job. Perhaps it is best for him to take a break, maybe he can pick up a normal hobby like pottery making or... bird watching. Though it was clear that the only thing he wanted to watch now was Taeyong.

“Did you see the Vitruvian man?” Taeyong asked, referring to the special exhibit on display. The gallery had finally opened it's office of drawings and prints to the general public and the piece that immediately caught rapt attention for only being display once before, in 2013, for the masses was Da Vinci's, sensational Vitruvian man. Jaehyun never understood the public interest. He appreciated the art, naturally, but the Vitruvian man wasn't a work of art. It was more of a work of science, or perhaps more accurately in mathematics. To him, there were many more interesting paintings in the Galleria. Maybe he's overzealous and overthinking but to him, it was just a flimsy piece of sketch Leonardo probably doodled with no clear intention. Of course, he's now staring at Taeyong who might really be the real-life ideal of the male anatomy. Jaehyun doesn't believe in god but clearly, some higher power had some insane vision to create that. That's when the word left his lips before he could finish his thought and he cringed inside when they are out in the open.

“I’m looking at him.” He appraised the beautiful man shamelessly.

“Subtle." Taeyong chuckled, not even bothering to hide his smile. "I like people like that.”

“So Taeyong... what are you doing in Venice?"

“I’m here to find inspiration.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he glanced back at the Pieta. It was so secretive and lucid and just goddamn attractive. Maybe he really deserved this break after all. Who was he to complain?

“For what?”

“My next painting.”


	2. The Pious Ones

"We have time." Taeyong chuckled when Jaehyun dropped his keys again when he tried to open the door to his rented room. It was one of those quaint little places and it took a bit of wiggling the doorknob to open the door. He breathed against his neck and goddamn Jaehyun can feel the frisson of pleasure down his spine. He doesn't remember the last time he was with someone properly. Perhaps high school? But high school doesn't count.

Twice.  
He's dropped the keys twice now.

"Patience." Taeyong laughed again, breath tickling his neck.  
"Too bad I don't have enough of that. Patience is quite hard when you're pressed against me like that."  
"That's not the only thing that's hard." Taeyong's hand had wandered down and Jaehyun gasped when he pressed against his crotch and he arches against Taeyong's body, biting his lip to keep the noises down.  
"Touché."Jaehyun croaked, voice heavy with want.  
And he wants Taeyong so badly.

He does get the door open and they stumble through like dominoes, one upon the other. Taeyong kisses him like they’re running out time, uninhibited, unrestrained. He's not even drunk but he's close to being. His smile pressed against that impossibly sharp jaw and he somehow feels like a boy again.  
No, he never had time for this when he was young. It was always "study Jaehyun", "excel Jaehyun", "you'll never get there unless you work hard Jaehyun". And work hard he did.  
For a moment he forgets the reason none of his relationships last - the travelling, the secrecy, the lies. How many times he has to fly to Paris and London and New York because there was some impending danger to some impending presidential candidate. How many times he's had to miss holidays. How many times had to take sleeping pills just to sleep because he felt that adrenaline rush too much.  
He forgets about the shiny badge in his wallet and the gun in his safe.

All the guns he's fired...  
All the safe's he's cracked...  
It all seemed meaningless up to this point.

But this was a different kind of adrenaline, subtle, soft like the other man's curves. There's just something about the way Taeyong's hair catches the light and those artist's hands that move lightly across his body. He wants it all.  
And Taeyong gives it to him, all that he could have never fathomed.  
His mouth pressed against his clavicle, tugged Jaehyun's shirt out of his pants, unbuckled his belt quicker than he could ever. And they kiss and kiss and kiss; in a frantic, fervent, ferocious manner. Pulling and pushing and touching.

"So eager." Taeyong panted.  
"It's been awhile." Jaehyun pressed kisses to his jugular whilst tugging at the other’s pants. Taeyong lets out a whimper at the sensation.  
"I can tell." He doesn't look but he can tell the other boy is smirking. Jaehyun huffed.  
"Shut up."

Jaehyun sees the night in flashes of images; all blurry and only a few components were vivid. Like how soft Taeyong's skin was under his fingertips as he pushed his t-shirt away, the moan that rips from his throat when Taeyong spread his legs and parted his lips, that pink hair, tousled and dishevelled and thoroughly messed by Jaehyun's careless and needy hands. It's dirty fucking - all flicking wrists and sloppy kisses and Taeyong was egging him on with filthy words but they both seem okay with that. He was so fucked out and blissed out and it's too much for Jaehyun to put into words.  
Simply, if he were to die in that moment, he would've died a very happy man.  
He blacks out for a moment when he bottoms up, grunting into the Taeyong's nape before letting go of his breath.

It was too much. It was warm and welcoming and wet and the way Taeyong keens makes his heart race. Fuck he was sexy as hell. The older meets his thrust and at a particularly hard one that had him quivering to the tips of his hairs, Taeyong whimpered again and stiffened. He knows he's found the spot.  
His hands become burning imprints on Taeyong's hips, not caring if they left a mark. Jaehyun hopes he does. He hopes Taeyong remembers the pleasure he dealt him in such a euphoric trance. He makes Taeyong chase his orgasm, changing gears and thrusting shallowly which makes the other whine and grip his forearm desperately.  
"No teasing."  
"Where's the fun in that?"  
"Jaehyunnie." He mewled again and Jaehyun is so whipped, he loves his, he wants to hear it again and again.  
So he gives it to him again and again and again.

Taeyong comes apart first and it's heaven and hell all at once.  
It's absolution.

And then Jaehyun breaks apart just as violently, grunting and whispering sweet praises into Taeyong's sweat-slicked skin, he reaches out and brushed Taeyong's bangs away from his forehead.  
"Good?"  
"Bloody amazing." Taeyong laughed and Jaehyun sighed in content. They lay there in post-coital bliss as Jaehyun pulled the sheets up.  
It's all over and done with and Jaehyun fell asleep quietly wrapped around Taeyong's arm. His nose pressed against his clavicle and inhaling his sweet heady scent that reminded him of fresh laundry, lavender and rosemary.

 

His bed is cold and empty in the morning. Taeyong has not left a trace. Not even his scent lingered. He is disappointed. But still a little happy. It made Jaehyun think twice if he fucked a ghost last night. But no, he clearly remembered those veiny hands and that goddamn mouth and he's dizzy from the mere thought.  
Fuck, is he getting turned on in the morning?

The abrupt buzzing of his phone had him scrambling to the other side of the bed to answer the call at record speed.  
"Hello?" Jaehyun half yawned into his phone.  
"Well good morning officer Jung." Johnny's voice floated into his ear, with the grating optimistic voice like he was asking to be slapped or something. Maybe Jaehyun was just disappointed it wasn't him.  
"Oh... it's you." Jaehyun said flatly in realisation How disappointing.  
"Always so chipper in the morning officer Jung." Johnny whistled.  
"It's Jaehyun when I'm on break. And we dropped formalities years ago Johnny." He rolled his eyes; he can imagine Johnny in his office, feet propped up, half-eaten bagel getting crumbs everywhere and a cup of steaming coffee in his favourite black cup. The case files untouched, a copy of the Economist instead wide open on his glass table. Yes. He can imagine it.  
"Yes well... I'm calling from the office. And be a little bit more courteous to the man who got your that vacation." Johnny had taken the liberty of letting Jaehyun stay a few weeks in Venice before going back to the headquarters in Seoul after Jaehyun experienced a brief mental breakdown in Lyon. The psychiatrist told him it would be good for him to rest and to some degree, he didn't want to 'just rest' but he followed orders like a good little cop before his licenses or badge got revoked.

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me I'm just a bit ... miffed..." He sighed, slumping back onto his bed, hands pushing back his hair.  
"Did your one night stand leave before you got to cuddle?"  
"How do you know about that?" Jaehyun's voice turned sharp.  
"You do realise who you work for?" Johnny guffawed.  
"No please remind Daddy." He can almost imagine Johnny stiffening on the other side of the phone, and perhaps very pissed off that he had caught on about his illicit office affair. Though really, he figured this all months ago. But secrets were only useful to him in times of leverage and one-upmanship.  
"Funny."Johnny replied sarcastically.  
"I'm sorry isn't that you're new code name? It's how your secretary addresses you. I assumed it was an inside joke." Jaehyun said nonchalantly, shrugging at himself.  
"It's only a joke if you say so. And you won't say anything Jaehyun."  
The NIS had many divisions and subsidiaries under it. Jaehyun was by law, a police officer, though he hasn't worked with the force in years, he still has the badge in his wallet. By technicality, he was a special agent, but not the tuxedo-wearing, gun touting, James Bond 007 type. Johnny had once drunkenly called him "the most stupid brilliant shit head I've ever met".Which to some degree was probably true but then Johnny himself existed so Jaehyun would beg to differ.  
Truth be told, he had his hands in a lot of pies.

He had trained police officers on criminal sociological patterns. And worked with Doyoung and half the white collar crimes unit to trace money laundering by government officials for a year and a half. Now, he was put in the Foreign crimes unit with an ingénue of the cryptology field, Mark Lee, who Johnny had to manage to recruit from Canada and the timid but blunt researcher Moon Taeil who was also a deplorable drunkard like Johnny.  
"You're fucking your secretary because her husband's out of town on a business trip to Busan.You forget who works for you."  
"How could I forget? Fucking genius brat Jung Jaehyun. Detective extraordinaire. The NIS' most prized agent. Holmes and Poirot are shaking, quaking in their boots."

"How's the latest case progressing?"  
"It's not."Johnny said flatly.  
"Is this why you called?"  
"Don't flatter yourself. Vanity doesn't suit you."  
"Well it suits you fine..."  
"As I've been told. The DNA samples from Paris doesn't match any of our databases. Then we sent it to America, still nothing. This dude's a wraith." He could hear the slapping of files onto tables  
"Equality dear Youngho. It could be female."  
"Yes... yes but it's just so strange. What theif-"  
"Theives."Jaehyun corrected. It was obvious that no one could commit all those heists alone.  
"What thieves leave their calling cards in the wake of their robbery?"  
"The ones confident enough they won't be caught." There was a pause as Johnny mulled over his words. "They're confident. Confidence means they're sure and a little bit cocky. That leaves room for carelessness and mistakes. I wouldn't worry for too long. They'll make a mistake soon. "  
"You're right." Johnny sighed.  
"Of course I'm right."  
"Why do I even bother to call you?"  
"Because you love me Daddy."  
"Fuck you."  
"Hell hath no fury like Johnny Seo scorned."  
"See you in hell Jaehyun." Johnny said genially.  
"Yes. Yes, you probably will." Jaehyun laughed

 

Paris, 4 months earlier,

Taeyong always liked spring in Europe, it's kind of shallow, kind of self-indulgent, but he truly enjoyed Paris in springtime. There was a buzz of excitement and the faint smell of flowers in the air. All of it was so cliché and picture perfect and though he would never admit it out loud, he would appreciate it.  
He sat in a cafe at the Tuilleries, sketchbook splayed open on the table next to his cup of coffee. His hands were smudged with charcoal which he rubbed off on his black slacks carelessly. His white button-down was wrinkled, the sleeves pushed up revealing his white skin to the light sun filtering through the green tinted glass house. He unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, the humidity overwhelming in the cafe.  
A waitress came by with a plate pilled with pastries and a tray of pastel coloured macaroons too dainty to be eaten. But of course, he won’t have a that much of a problem of actually eating them.  
“Merci.” The word flowed out of his mouth thoughtlessly.  
The waitress nodded, eyes avoiding his, though she stole glances and her cheeks were flushed pink. Taeyong smirked.  
He knew he was attractive.  
He was told.  
And people stared.  
He had looked into a mirror; he knew he was attractive.  
It wasn’t that big of a deal to him. But it certainly came useful when he needed things to go his way. He liked having people willing to do things for him, to go out of their way to please him.  
It was gratifying.

“One long black and a gatueax of your recommendation. Anything as sweet as you.” Taeyong’s head snapped to see Ten slipping into the seat opposite him. He flashed the waitress a charming smile and winked making the waitress blush even more before scurrying off to fulfil his orders. Taeyong rolled his eyes because who the hell was that level of cringe when they flirted?  
“How was Germany?”  
“Quiet. Not that I mind the quiet once in awhile you know?” Ten stole a pale blue macaroon from his plate and then tore off some of his pain au chocolat, eating jovially.  
“No. No, I don’t know because when I’m with you all you ever do is talk.”  
“I missed you too.” Ten’s face broke into the most ridiculous self-serving, shit eating grin ever.

“I meant how was the acquisition?"  
"The painting is with Kun on the way to Guangzhou as we speak. How are you enjoying spring in Paris?"  
"It reeks of romance and overcrowded with tourists."  
"That's good. More business. More people in the streets."  
"More cops. More cops mean we have to be even more inconspicuous."  
"And that's so hard to do when you look like ... well like you. And I look like a god."  
"I'm surprised we haven't been struck by lightning yet from all the blasphemous things that come out of your mouth."

Ten smiled.  
"We don't mess with god anymore. We're past redemption anyway Taeyong. Not that we were ever the pious ones."  
"True."

"I heard a little tidbit from Kun. They're sending a few NIS agents to Interpol HQ." Ten leaned in a bit at the table, elbows propped on the white marble and bangs falling.  
"Standard procedure. What's strange about that?"  
"I heard there's a team dedicated to finding us." Hi voice was too light for the subject matter like they were talking about the weather.  
"That's not funny Ten. It means they know we have a base in Korea."  
"Perhaps."  
"They're not stupid Ten."  
"Neither are we." Taeyong's hands cupped his teacup handle a little tighter and he went quiet as the waitress came back with a cup of coffee and a Sachertorte served with a dollop of Chantilly cream.  
"Relax I've asked Yuta to visit his parents. He's in Osaka for the rest of the time we'll be in Paris."  
"Good."  
"I also heard of a particular agent. Brilliant protege or something. A detective just for us. How special. Do you feel special yet Taeyong?" Ten's eyes gleamed.   
"He can't be that good.... why... he hasn't caught us yet." Taeyong snorted, eyes alight with a slight mischief that made him look so much younger than usual.  
Ten smirked, he knew that look.  
Oh what fun.

"You never liked losing your games."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so sorry I've been having writers block and school has been really really tough and I relapsed back into depression which was really hard for me to just get back into the head space for writing again. I'm doing okay now tho :) My semester 1 exams are just a week away and hopefully I'll update more after those. Thanks and leave me comment ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I'm back with a new fic, which I'll also post on aff. Writing has been my only coping mechanism recently due to very high levels of anxiety and stress. This is short but I wanted to give you guys something. Some feedback would be much appreciated :)


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